Chapter 27 #2
Weston slams his fists into the table, and Anastasia releases him. He puts both hands on his head and moves to the farthest corner of the room, his expression murderous. Zane moves around me and puts himself between his sister and his best friend. Garrison moves closer to the door.
Leopold opens the folder and slides it forward. The man leans in to look.
“Is it a crime to like pictures?”
“It’s a crime to murder an innocent teenage girl,” Jack snaps.
“It’s a crime to threaten and stalk a woman.
And it’s a crime to blow up a man—twice.
Then let’s not forget kidnapping a federal agent, or the twelve bodies you dropped in Georgia.
See, you may have worn a mask and disguised your voice, but certain things can’t be hidden.
Such as your mannerisms. They come through, no matter how well disguised you think you are.
I know it was you,” he adds, voice barely above a whispered growl.
The man grins up at him. “You seem a bit close to this one, Agent Weathers. Perhaps you should take a minute. Cool off.”
Jack slams his hands down on the table. “I have no patience for arrogance. We have you. The only hope you have is to make a full confession and hope you don’t get the death penalty.”
Ryan leans back in his seat. “All you have are pictures. I’m a crime buff. You going to pin me down for my taste in podcasts, too?”
“A crime buff? That’s what you expect us to believe?”
“I follow unsolved crimes. It’s a hobby of mine.” His tone is too cool. Calculated. His movements too relaxed. Arrogance drips from him like a toxic sludge. He thinks he’s going to get away with it.
He thinks he’ll walk.
I look over at Zane. He meets my gaze, the expression on his face one I know well.
No matter what happens here—this guy won’t walk.
“You have photographs of a murdered seventeen-year-old girl on your wall,” Jack snaps.
Weston lets out a tortured growl. An audible representation of him trying to leash his rage. I move in closer, right beside Zane. But even I know that, if Cowboy goes off, we’ll all be collateral damage.
“He’s going to get his,” Garrison assures Weston.
“Oh, I know he will,” Weston snarls. “But a prison cell and three meals a day are too good for him.”
“Care to explain how you got that picture?” Leopold asks. “She was found shortly after she was killed. So that image must have been taken mere minutes after her death.”
He shrugs. “Someone sent it to me.”
“You don’t truly expect us to buy that.” Leopold shakes his head. “Like Agent Weathers said, we’ve got you. It won’t take long for us to prove that you were in town the night Violet Hayes was murdered. And when we do, you’ll have nowhere to hide.” He stands.
But Jack leans in. “You know, her brother is on the other side of that glass. Big guy. Navy SEAL who eats men like you for breakfast.”
Oh no. Taunting this guy might be good for a confession, but it’s the last thing Weston needs.
“Is that supposed to scare me?” Ryan questions, his gaze shifting to the one-way glass. And then, he blows a kiss at Weston.
Cowboy goes off like a nuclear warhead.
He explodes out of the room, knocking Garrison and Zane out of the way.
I grab Anastasia and spin her out of the way as he practically rips the door from its hinges.
I release Anastasia and race after him, but by the time I get into the interrogation room, he has Ryan by the throat, pinned against the wall.
Leopold is frantically trying to get armed officers to lower their weapons, while Jack is trying to get Weston to release Ryan before he crushes his throat.
For a moment, I pause.
Do I really want to stop him?
Isn’t Weston justified?
But those thoughts dry up when reality kicks in. As much as we want this guy dead, we have to do this the right way. I cross the room, jumping over a discarded chair, and place a hand on Weston’s arm.
“He’s not worth a murder charge, Weston.”
“No?” Weston snarls. “Because I beg to differ! You murdered her. You extinguished a light and discarded her like trash!”
The man grins. “I’ve seen you around, brute,” he chokes out.
“We were always destined to end up here, weren’t we?
” He releases the hold he had on Weston’s wrist. “Go ahead and do it. There’s no feeling quite like it.
But you know all about taking lives, don’t you?
” His voice is strained, barely above a whisper.
“Tell me, how many brothers have you killed? Doesn’t that make us the same? ”
“Don’t listen to him, Weston,” Garrison urges. “Don’t give him the satisfaction.” The calming tone to his voice is one I used to joke about. I’d tell him he was bringing out his counselor tone. But now, we need it.
Badly.
“Weston, you have to let him go. Let us do our job,” Jack urges. “Don’t get yourself arrested. Your family has suffered enough because of him.”
“Weston?” Anastasia’s voice is next.
I turn. “Go. Don’t come in here.” The last thing I want is her anywhere near this monster, but she doesn’t listen.
Instead, she moves in farther, her gaze locked on Weston.
“I lost her, too. Please don’t make me lose you over this.”
Ryan’s grin when he sees Anastasia has me taking a step back for my own security. Otherwise, I might jump in and join Weston.
“Please, Weston.”
The fight Cowboy is going through is evident in every single line of his expression. Every muscle in his body is poised for an attack. Mentally, I prepare for an exit strategy. Because there is no way I am letting them take Cowboy—even if he does kill this monster.
But then, he releases him and steps back.
Ryan gasps for air as he slides to the ground. He grips his throat and makes a strangled sound that can barely be considered a laugh. “Cowards. Every single one of you. Willing to die for a useless woman. It’s only a matter of time before she shares the same fate as her friend. Maybe even worse.”
Now it’s my turn to lose it.
Red invades my vision, blocking out any and all of the logic I just tried to use to diffuse the situation mere seconds ago. I whirl on him, dropping down as my hand replaces Cowboy’s on his throat. I raise my fist and slam it into Ryan’s face. Once. Twice.
Blood covers my fist, but I rear back for a third, only to be ripped off him by Zane and Jack. I lunge forward when Ryan turns his attention to me and smiles, blood dripping from his nose and mouth.
“I’ll finish what I started all those years ago,” he says, then turns to Anastasia. “You’re next, lovely girl.”
I lunge forward again, knowing what has to be done.
What I’ve always done when someone is a threat.
Eliminate.
Destroy.
But Weston wraps an arm around my chest, dragging me out of the room and out into the hall.
“He has to be dealt with,” I insist.
“This isn’t some top-secret military operation,” Jack snaps. “You can’t just make him disappear.”
“Why not?” I demand. “You can all look the other way. I’ll make sure no one ever finds him.”
“Sawyer,” Leopold warns. “You know that we can’t do that. You have to let the justice system do its job.”
“The justice system?” I shake my head. “He doesn’t deserve it.”
“Sawyer. Let it go. We’ve got him now,” Leopold says. “You two get out of here before I have to charge you both with assault.” He points toward the door. “Now.”
“He’s not getting away with it,” Jack assures us, his gaze traveling over each of us. “I can promise you that.”